The Chairman's Downfall

October 31, 1993

When he learned he was under federal investigation last year, State Republican Chairman Richard Foley Jr. couldn't contain his anger. Against the advice of his attorney, he held a press conference and admonished the investigators to "Put up or shut up."

They "picked on the wrong mick," he growled. "I'm not going to let some miserable little low-level bureaucrat run me out of politics after 25 years."

Mr. Foley actually ran himself out of politics. Last week, a federal jury in Waterbury convicted him of four felonies. He was found guilty of accepting a bribe in exchange for promising to persuade fellow Republicans to support an interstate banking bill.

The verdict brought to a shocking and tragic end the political life of one of the most blustery public figures in Connecticut.

Mr. Foley earned his reputation as a brash and wisecracking state representative and party chairman. He blasted his critics as crybabies, asses, zealots and whiners. He once called a Republican House member "a miserable bitch." In a moment of anger, he referred to the executive director of the State Ethics Commission as an "ethics Nazi." He took no prisoners.

The targets of Mr. Foley's venom may have little sympathy for him now. Yet there should be regret in his downfall. In his own way, this man enlivened Connecticut politics even though he may not have enlightened it.

The shock lies in his conviction. Conventional wisdom held that the case was weak, what with the key witnesses against Mr. Foley themselves being felons.

But the jury apparently had no trouble reaching a verdict. It deliberated less than four hours and found that Mr. Foley broke the law in 1989 when he accepted bribe money from two Waterbury bankers and developers, Richard D. Barbieri Sr. and John A. Corpaci.

Mr. Foley admitted accepting the $25,000, which he described as consulting fees for helping Mr. Barbieri and Mr. Corpaci find tenants for a shopping center they developed. But there was little evidence that "the consultant" did any work for his clients.

Mr. Barbieri and Mr. Corpaci, who are now in prison, testified they gave Mr. Foley the money so that he could help them change the

outcome of an interstate banking bill.

Prosecutors said the defendant knew when he took the money that the outcome was about to change anyway. As U.S. Attorney Leonard Boyle put it, Mr. Foley "made the best promise a person could make, one he knew he doesn't have to keep. He saw an opportunity and capitalized on it. He traded on insider information."

If Mr. Foley accepted the money but did not twist the arms of fellow Republicans, did he break the law? Yes. Judge T.F. Gilroy Daly's instruction to the jurors should be etched in the minds of all public officials. Federal law makes it a crime to accept money for corrupt purposes "even if the promised action does not occur," he said.

Mr. Foley can protest as much as he wishes that he did nothing wrong because he avoided swaying legislators on the banking bill. But by accepting money under false pretenses, he sold his public office.

Although Mr. Foley is unlikely to spend the maximum 21 years in prison, a slap on the wrist would send the wrong signals to other lawmakers. There is no joy in seeing a public official behind bars, but neither should there be tolerance of an official who committed felonies.

Mr. Foley is likely to appeal the verdict. He is only the latest fallen figure in the corruption scandal involving Mr. Barbieri and Mr. Corpaci. Twenty-three other people have been found guilty, including Mayor Joseph Santopietro of Waterbury. The federal investigation reportedly continues.

The jury's finding in the latest case should serve as a warning to public officials who are tempted to live on the edge of the law. Too many lawmakers accept fees, honorariums and secondary salaries by virtue of their public positions. Some make implicit promises, others explicit promises. In either case, they break trust with the people who elected them